


Finding a New Path

by pianosexual



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, College, M/M, Secret Identity, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianosexual/pseuds/pianosexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five months and one week after Gwen Stacy's death and the disappearance of Spider-Man, Flash Thompson and Peter Parker find solace in each other. Their unlikely friendship quickly turns into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding a New Path

**Author's Note:**

> This is set right after The Amazing Spider-Man 2. Please feel free to criticize constructively; it's basically my first fic (if you don't count that awful one I wrote in the sixth grade)! Also, there's a little bit of blood and descriptions of a serious injury, so yeah.

It had been five months and one week since Gwen Stacy, Flash Thompson's high school classmate and tutor, was killed. Five months and one week since Spider-man saved New York City, and suddenly disappeared. During that time, crime rates went up. Sure, Spider-man wasn't always around to fend for New York, and there were bigger heroes like the Avengers, but that's what they were: bigger. They looked at the big picture, but Spider-Man was the guy who took care of everyone, like the underrated babysitter of the city. Spider-Man personally watched out for New Yorkers like they were his children, his _responsibility_. So when Spider-Man made a comeback and defeated the Rhino five months and one week after he disappeared, Flash was happy. Happy and curious. Why did Spider-Man leave for so long, and what made him come back?

Flash was walking home from class at Empire State University when he passed the cemetery where Gwen Stacy lay. Five months, he thought to himself as he walked into the cemetery. _And one week_.  
As he approached Gwen's grave, he heard a familiar voice. _Peter Parker_. From a distance, Flash watched as Peter sat, hunched over Gwen's grave, and had a one sided conversation with her.

“… he’s back. I had to bring him back, the city needs him. I hope you forgive me.”

_Whom did he bring back?_

“…just about five months, I just think it’s time to start, uh, fresh? You’d want that, right? Aunt May wants that. I really love you, like a lot, but I think I have to start, like, _living_. Again. I’m still gonna visit you every other day, promise. And uh, I brought you something,” Peter placed a single, pink rose across Gwen’s grave. Just as he was about to leave, Flash stepped out of his hiding spot and waved. Peter seemed surprised.

“Hey, Flash. Long time no see. Whatcha doin here?”

“Parker, wow,” Flash found himself searching for the right words to say. It was kinda dumb of him to just jump into a conversation with a guy who was just talking to his dead girlfriend’s grave, whom Flash used to make a point of beating up in school, whom he hasn’t talked to, let alone _looked_ at since graduation, “Uh, I was just passing and I thought I’d see Gwen. I didn’t expect to see you… uh… I guess that was dumb of me to _not_ expect you here, I dunno…”

“It’s alright. It’s okay, ha,” Peter smiled a smile that made Flash feel like he was doing something right.

“Good. I, uh, so where are you heading right now?”

“Oh, me? I’m on my way home from class. I go to ESU for biochemistry,” Peter said.

“No way! I go there too, I got in for football but I dunno if I’m gonna stick with it forever. Maybe I’ll find a backup thing,” Flash only just realized that he had followed Peter out of the cemetery and they had made it all the way to the subway station.

“Sounds good, Flash. I, uh, gotta go. It’s starting to get dark and Aunt May’s home alone. I’ll see you around in school, right?”  Peter called as he began to descend the stairs to the subway.

Flash watched as Peter began to disappear from his view. He couldn’t believe that he’d run into _this_ guy of all the people in the city. He’d thought for sure they’d never see each other’s faces after high school, and yet here they were, bumping into each other in a cemetery, only to find out that they _still_ go to the same school. Flash knew, though, that if they hadn’t seen each other in school all this time, they won’t run into each other in the future. This was a chance meeting.

“Hey, Parker, wait! Let’s grab breakfast in that nook next to the visual arts building tomorrow morning, we can- we can catch up and stuff.”

Peter paused and looked back from the stairs. Flash could only see his face, the rest of his body being hidden by stairs.  He looked surprised again, but he smiled and nodded in agreement before he disappeared completely.

 

 

The next morning, Flash found himself awake an hour earlier than usual, staring in his closet for a half decent, not smelly piece of clothing that wasn’t a sports jersey. He went with a button down shirt with pigeons on it that he’d purchased in Target. _This is really silly,_ he thought to himself. _Who am I even trying to impress? What does Peter Parker care if I wear a smelly jersey to breakfast? What do_ I _care?!_

Flash decided that he had nerves because he hadn’t hung out with anyone who wasn’t on his team in months. And maybe it had to do with the fact that he felt bad for beating Peter up in high school.

He took a seat in a booth near the back of the breakfast nook and waited… and waited. Fifteen minutes later, he saw Peter, disheveled and sloppy, scrambling to their small booth.

“Hey, uh, hi,” Peter whispered breathlessly, “I’m-huh-I’m sorry I’m late, I was… I overslept and, like, I… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t get a heart attack on me!” Flash said. Peter smiled, and Flash knew he was on the right track again.

“I won’t, I won’t. Wow, I’m kinda hungry… Nice shirt, by the way,” Peter said, perusing a menu. Flash smiled.

A waitress, a _beautiful_ waitress, came to their booth and Flash could have sworn she was making googly eyes at Peter. Good for him, he needs to move on and stop talking to gravestones like they’re his girlfriend. It’s been over five months.

“I’ll take a coffee and the omelette with sausage. Whole wheat toast please,” Flash said, smiling at the waitress, _Felicia._

“And I’ll take a coffee too, and…” Peter began, “and, umm, I’ll have the omelette too, and I’ll take the French toast with eggs sunny side up. Oh, and can I also get a bagel sandwich? With a side of hash browns.”

Felicia and Flash both looked at Peter, who seemed unaware or uncaring of the quantity of food he’d just ordered.

“Um, sir, that’s… that’s three orders,” Felicia said.

“I know,” Peter said, his cheeks turning bright pink, “I’m hungry.”

Flash found Peter being absolutely _adorable_ and he laughed as Felicia walked away. Then he found himself finding _Peter Parker_ adorable and stopped. Then he remembered that he used to beat up Peter.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me, I’m really hungry! I’m a growing boy, Aunt May says.”

“Sorry, Pete. You’re too much sometimes, I can’t help it. I’m sorry I used to beat you up.”

Oops. He said it out loud. Peter looked at Flash strangely, like he understood him, understood how much he needed to say that out loud.

“It’s okay, Flash. I get it. It _feels_ better, except it really doesn’t. And besides, you backed off after a while. I appreciate that,” Peter said. The look on his face said he really did appreciate it. Flash knew that they understood each other exactly, even though they didn’t know each other’s lives. Flash understood the pain and death Peter has had to deal with, and Peter knew that Flash had his own demons.

“Thanks, man.”

“Hey Flash, you called me Pete.”

“Yeah, so?” Felicia came, balancing plates of food. This time, when she put the food on the table, Flash could have sworn she gave Peter the stank eye.

“I dunno, never mind. You usually call me Parker,” Peter said before he began scarfing his food down his throat. Flash found him totally adorable, again. Which was so dumb and probably the worst thing he could feel, ever.

 

They exchanged numbers. Flash had Peter’s number. He could text him whenever the hell he wanted and Peter would receive his message. That was pretty amazing.

Another pretty amazing thing was that Peter asked Flash to wait by Penn Station after class and they could do something. Maybe see the Statue of Liberty since it was a weekend. How weird was it that neither of them had seen the Statue of Liberty and they’d lived in New York their whole lives? Also, Peter asked Flash, not the other way around, Flash had to keep reminding himself of that. Peter asked him. Peter _liked_ him. They were _friends._

That made Flash really happy and really nervous for some reason.

So when Peter didn’t show up at all for the entire day, Flash was pretty disappointed. He tried texting and calling, but there was no answer. Peter, his new friend, maybe his only _real_ friend, had stood him up.

As Flash was walking to his apartment, he heard yelling from above. When he looked, his heart stopped. There was Spider-Man, _Spider-Man,_ his absolute favorite hero, with some woman dressed like a black cat, and another lady who kinda looked like a pirate wearing a red bathing suit. Her name was Elektra, according to the Black Cat’s cries. Minutes of brawling passed, and finally Elektra bounced. Flash saw Spider-Man and Black Cat exchanging words, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Then he saw them furiously making out. Whoa.

 

Flash  couldn’t sleep that night. Not only was he still hurt about Peter forgetting him, but he also kept replaying the images of Spider-Man getting freaky with Black Cat. Flash saw Spider-Man as some sort of ultimate protector, as such an important hero, that he almost forgot that Spider-Man was… a man. He didn’t realize that Spider-Man might be lonely, that he wanted attention and pleasure and someone to _take care_ of him. He didn’t realize that Spider-Man got horny, that he wanted sex, that he had such a round butt….

Whoa!

Flash sat up in his bed. 3:34 AM and he was having _thoughts_ about a dude. About Spider-Man. And about someone else whom he didn’t want to even think about. It made him nauseous that Peter Parker could just waltz back into his life and make Flash dance to his tunes and then skip out when Flash became invested in their friendship. And now, after dumb Peter Parker makes him feel things, he’s having gay thoughts about some guy dressed in red and blue tights. He should be thinking about feeling up the Black Cat, not Spider-Man, and yet here he was, wondering how Spider-Man’s strong hands would feel, running down Flash’s back…

Suddenly, Flash feels disgusted. Spider-Man would feel disgusted too if he’d known what Flash was just thinking. His father would be really disgusted, oh boy, he’d have the time of his life putting Flash down for one more thing he’s fucked up. Flash was _not_ gay, couldn’t be. He did not want Spider-Man, and he absolutely, positively did _not_ want Peter Parker. Not like that.

 _What if I’m bisexual? I mean, I can’t deny what I’m feeling,_ Flash thought to himself. Bisexual didn’t sound bad. He knew he liked women, but he also yearned for a masculine touch, someone strong and muscular and boyish, kinda like Spider-Man. Or Peter Parker.

_Oh God, Flash Thompson, you have a big, dumb crush on Peter Parker, don’t you?_

 

Flash doesn’t see or hear from Peter for two whole days since he forgot him at Penn Station. Flash absolutely did not want to be the first one to text, he didn’t want to seem too obvious about his… feelings? Flash was still getting used to the idea of not being completely straight, let alone having a crush on some kid he used to bully. Two years ago if someone told him that’s he’d have _gay feelings_ for Peter Parker, he would’ve laughed in their face and probably punched them. Now, here he was, waiting outside the science building at ESU just to catch a glimpse of Peter’s face. This was probably a worse idea than texting first.

Flash did get a glimpse of Peter, and his eyes bulged when he saw a long gash running down Peters face. Flash rushed over to him, and as he got closer to Peter, more and more tiny bruises appeared on his face and neck.

“Oh my God, Peter! What the hell happened to you?” Flash said, grabbing Peters shoulder.

Peter winced, “Sorry, Flash. I uh, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it on Friday… I, um, I just… I got mugged and they took my phone and stuff, so yeah.”

Something told Flash that Peter wasn’t telling the whole story, but he didn’t push it. Flash just wanted to see Peter okay and not banged up like he got thrown off a building face first. He forgave him for not showing up to Penn Station, because of course it wasn’t his fault that this happened.

“Hey, it’s okay, Pete. I’m just glad you’re fine. Wanna make it up to me? Come over to my place after class on Friday and we can do touristy things. You ever been to the wax museum?”

* * *

 

Two months later, Peter found himself spending nights at Flash’s more than he did in his own home. At first, Peter expressed how he felt bad for leaving Aunt May alone, but when Flash met her, she seemed happy that Peter was finally moving on, and that he had a friend.

Peter was now Flash’s best friend. They met each other every day after class, and Peter stayed over at Flash’s a lot. They had their own set of inside jokes, their own flow and humor. They rubbed off on each other a lot. Peter started asking about basketball teams as if he cared about basketball before Flash, and Flash started listening to bands like Coldplay and the Wombats. Yikes. But it made Peter smile _that_ smile, so he didn’t really mind. He could really see how far Peter came along. When they visited Gwen together, Peter sounded so much more alive than he did the first time Flash eavesdropped on him. Flash felt special to be the one to help Peter smile like that more often, to be Peter’s friend. They were almost perfectly in sync.

There was still the part where Peter showed up with random bruises and cuts and _hickeys_ all over the place. Flash wasn’t stupid. He stopped believing that Peter could get mugged so often, especially since that didn’t explain the hickeys. Plus, Peter kept complaining that his grades were really low and that he was barely passing, which confused Flash. Didn’t Peter get a free ride to ESU because he’s like, a science genius? When were grades ever of his concern? Flash was starting to think Peter was in an abusive relationship and he wasn’t telling anyone, but Flash just didn’t have the heart to approach him.

“Hey, so why don’t you just come live with me already?”  Flash said to Peter out of the blue. Peter was blasting Weezer in Flash’s apartment while he made burgers on the stove. Flash thought that Peter looked way too comfortable for a place that he didn’t even live in, “You spend way too much time here anyway.”

Peter flipped a burger and looked at Flash, wide-eyed, “Yeah, uh, why not? Aunt May might actually catch a break since she won’t have to fuss over me.”

 “Good. Now you can be my full time sexy housewife and make me burgers and do the dishes _every day_.”

Peter slapped a hand on his chest and pretended to be offended, “I am _not_ a housewife! I’m not even a house husband! But, I mean, you _did_ get the sexy part right,” he winked dramatically.

Then he smiled like _that_ again and Flash thought he was going to melt.

 

 

Flash thought that Peter’s cuts and bruises and hickeys would die down now that they lived together, but Flash was wrong. He wondered when Peter had the chance to get all banged up when he was with Flash ninety percent of the time. Whenever Peter goes out, Flash goes with him, and besides that, they’re both home together, so Flash couldn’t figure out what was going on.

It was 3:17 AM on a cold, February night and snow was gently falling over New York City. Flash couldn’t sleep because the reflection of the full moon against the white snow made his room too bright. When he left his room, he noticed that the light in Peter’s room was still on.

“Pete, you awake? Can I come in?” Flash said softly as he knocked on Peter’s door. When there was no reply, he twisted the doorknob and invited himself in, deciding that Peter must’ve fallen asleep with the lights on and that he should turn it off.

When Flash entered the room, there was no sign of Peter. His bed was unslept in, a _Daily Bugle_ issue featuring Spider-Man and Black Cat’s romance littered on it. The window was wide open, letting in a chilling draft. Flash began to worry about Peter’s disappearance. _This_ has _to be the story behind his bruises, how else could he possibly get them?_

Flash walked back to his room and promised himself that he would confront Peter about this the next day. Mysterious, frequent injuries were one thing, but sneaking out of the apartment in the middle of the night? Pete needed an intervention.

Flash fell asleep thinking about Peter.

 

“Rise n’ shine, Flash! I’m making your favorite eggs!” Peter’s voice blared through the apartment. Flash looked at the time, 10:25AM. He brushed his teeth and walked into the kitchen to find Peter, breathtakingly handsome, setting a sunny side up egg on a piece of bread. Flash wanted to kiss him right there, and then he wanted to slap himself in the face.

“Here, before it gets cold,” Peter was suddenly right in front of Flash, a fork full of egg waving in the tight space between them. Flash took a bite of egg and closed his eyes with pleasure. Peter’s food always tasted the best.

“Pete, your food always tastes the b—“

“Hang on, you’ve got egg on your face,” Peter said softly. He wiped away the egg on Flash’s cheek, but his hand didn’t move.

Flash’s heart was beating fast and loudly as he and Peter stood in the kitchen, with Peter’s hand on his face. Peter’s hand snaked around Flash’s face so that his fingertips were brushing the back of his neck. He began to lean in, the space between their mouths slowly closing…

“Where were you last night?”

Peter leaned out and the warmth of his hand on Flash’s neck suddenly disappeared.

“What? What are you—“

“ _Don’t_ , Peter. I know you weren’t home last night, I couldn’t sleep and I tried to find you and you weren’t there. I’m not stupid, I just don’t get why you’d—“

“Flash.”

“—go out and get yourself hurt and expect me to not—“

“ _Flash._ ”

“—And then there’s the hickeys too, like do you really think you deserve someone that makes you sneak out and then does _this_ to—“

“FLASH!” Peter shouted. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Peter sighed and said, “I’m sorry, it’s… it’s personal. Just drop it. I’m fine, I promise.”

“You promise. You _promise_ ,” Flash glared at Peter, “Does that even _mean_ anything? I don’t know anything and you’re getting yourself banged up and now you’re making a _promise_? I can’t trust you if you’re gonna keep hiding these things from me!”

“I have a right to keep whatever I want to myself, I have no obligation to tell you what—“

“Don’t you _trust_ me?” Flash looked at Peter with pleading eyes. If he only just told Flash what was going on, they wouldn’t be yelling at each other. Flash couldn’t let Peter get away without telling him _something._

“I do trust you, Flash, I trust you more than anyone else…”

“Then why?”

Peter looked down, “I… can’t tell you anything. I’m sorry, I just can’t. I don’t trust myself and this is the only way we can stay like this. I don’t want something to go wrong.”

Flash was infuriated by Peter’s cryptic words. Flash was infuriated by Peter in general. Peter, whom Flash beat up in high school, whom he bumped into at the graveyard, who eats enough for three people in one meal, who has a smile that makes Flash melt, who just tried to kiss Flash but was stopped because he has a huge fucking secret that he refuses to share and still expects Flash to trust him.

“Peter, something’s already wrong if you have to hide things from me just to be with me.”

“Flash, you don’t understand,” Peter began.

“You’re right. I don’t. It’s alright, I can’t force you to tell me what’s going on, but don’t ever try that thing you tried just now and not expect me to wanna know more about you first. Besides, judging by the love-bites, don’t you already have someone?

“No,” Peter’s hand shot up to his neck, covering the fading hickeys, “I’ll… I’ll stop that if it means we—“

“You know that’s not enough. You know what you have to do if you want us to stay like this.”

“I know, and I want this to stay…. But I just can’t. I’m sorry, Flash,” Peter said. He placed the fork he was holding on the kitchen counter and made his way to the door, “I’m gonna go see Aunt May and Gwen. I’ll see you later.”

 

 

One week later, things between Flash and Peter were mostly patched up, but Flash still felt a strain on their friendship. Flash realized that this was probably not only because of the fight about Peter’s secret, but also because they almost kissed right before that. Flash was relieved that Peter wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss Peter, but he just couldn’t do it blindly. If Peter wanted their thing to actually work out, he’d have to trust Flash more than this.

Flash started staying up late at night. He listened every night, for a few minutes after Peter went into his room. He would hear Peter’s window open and a pair of feet land on the fire escape, and then he would wait for hours until he heard footsteps and the window again before he went back to sleep.

One night, during one of Flash’s Peter vigils, he heard the window open, but instead of footsteps, there was a thud and a groan. 3 AM. _About an hour early_ , Flash thought. He heard a bunch of things clattering and falling, and then a cry. Flash was getting really worried. Secret or not, Peter sounded hurt. He was going in there and he didn't care how much Peter freaked out at him for disrespecting his privacy.  
"Pete, you okay?"  
No reply. Flash fiddled with Peter's locked door before he bashed it open, yelling Peter’s name. It took flash a few moments to register what he was seeing.  
On the floor, in a dark pool of blood, was a shivering Spider-Man. He was clutching a wound on his abdomen, the source of all the blood. It was deep. _Was he shot? Stabbed?_ He was gasping... Having some sort of attack, maybe from panic or shock and blood loss. Flash needed to do something _now._ He couldn’t go to the hospital because he would ruin Spider-Man’s secret identity. He’d have to help him _himself_. This was a scary situation for Flash, because the most he’s ever done is use a first aid kit for little cuts and scrapes after sports games or school fights.

Flash was getting really nauseous. Here was Spider-Man, _dying_ in Peter’s room. Peter was nowhere in sight. Flash finally realized that Peter had a connection to Spider-Man. He helped him with his costume? Designed his webs? Maybe Spider-Man was the abusive boyfriend? Flash thought of various things, but he didn’t want to think about the one other possibility, wanted more than anything for his suspicion to be wrong.

Flash bent down, propped Spider-Man against the leg of Peter’s bed, and reached for his mask. _Please, Flash. You’re wrong so many times, please_ please _don’t be right this time._

Flash yanked off the mask and his stomach flipped. He was right. There was a dying Peter Parker underneath the Spider-Man suit. Flash’s eyes stung and he didn’t know what to do. He said a quick “God save us” and looked at Peter’s bleeding wound.

His hands shaking, Flash gently peeled off the top of Peter’s suit, which revealed a nasty bullet wound in his abdomen. Suddenly the smell of blood became too much for Flash and he threw up on the floor.

Peter began to stir. He was floating in and out of consciousness, and in his brief moment of being awake, Flash could make out some jumbled words:

“F-flash….. closet….”

Flash scrambled to his feet and ripped open the closet door. He fought the urge to vomit again as another wave of nausea hit him when he stood on his feet. The sight and smell of blood and vomit mixed with the realization that his more-than-best-friend was a superhero, dying in front of him, was a lot to handle. He sorted through Peter’s Spider-Man stuff, costumes and web cartridges, to find something useful. Finally he came across a large first aid kit in the back of the closet and he hauled it back to Peter.

Peter screamed like Flash had never heard when he took the bullet out of the wound. Flash wondered if it would have hurt Peter less had he been more experienced in bullet removing. Flash continued tending to the wound, trying hard to block out Peter’s cries and groans. When Peter passed out, presumably from the pain and blood loss, Flash didn't know whether he was relieved or unsettled from the silence in the room. It took Flash over an hour to clean up all the blood and vomit. He changed Peter into sweatpants, laid him gently on his bed and took a seat on Peters desk chair. It was almost 6AM and Flash's eyes burned for sleep, but he forced himself to stay awake because how could he _not_?

  
Flash didn't know if he was supposed to be this angry with Peter when he just almost died, but he was. He was angry with him for hiding this kind of a secret, this life threatening secret. He was angry that Peter could have died at any time and Flash wouldn't have known anything; he was angry that he looked up to Spider-Man as hero, beyond human, when he was really just a guy whose life people valued. People like Flash. He didn’t associate Spider-Man with humanly things, and just like the realization that Spider-Man wanted sex was oddly surprising to him, the realization that Spider-Man was a loved one, who could die on the job at any time, was a far worse surprise. And then there was the Black Cat. Spider-Man was running around with her, and at the same time, Peter Parker was running around with _him._ That hurt more than Flash wanted to admit, but he didn't bring up any of the hurt when Peter began to stir because, again, how could he?

  
"....Flash?" Peter mumbled. He saw Flash holding his Spider-Man mask and opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out. He looked around the room, at his bandaged self, and at the dried up bullet that casually rested on his side table. He looked at Flash again and said, "Thank you."  
"I... would say it was no problem but it kinda was... But yeah don't mention... Actually no, you should mention it because _damn_ , Peter, you could’ve _died._ "

“… I’m so sorry.”

Peter’s apology didn’t soothe Flash’s anger that much. He still wanted more explanations about _everything_ , and he would confront Peter as soon as he recovered. _How long would that take?_ Flash wondered. Did Peter have super-spidery-healing along with super-spidery-strength and sticking to walls? What other powers did he have that no one knew about?

Flash opens his mouth to say that it’s _not_ okay but they’ll talk later, but Peter speaks first:

“You weren’t supposed to find out. Especially not like this.”

“Well, I did. And I’m glad I found out and I’m glad _someone_ was there to save your life. And also I’m mad that you thought risking your life and not telling anyone, especially me, who you said you trust the most, was a good idea. And I’m mad about some other things too, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I wanna know who shot you.”

Peter bit his lip and said, “I- that’s understandable. Of course you’re mad, who wouldn’t be? I was shot by one of the Kingpin’s men. I was trying to expose his crimes and…  I just… I wanted to protect you from all this. I wanted to protect everyone. That’s why I kept it a secret.”

“But now you have someone to talk to, you have _me_. And besides, the more I know about this, the more I’ll understand, the less confused and angry and–“

“No, I know, but you don’t understand. You’re in danger because of _me_ , just by knowing all this, and I’d rather be lonely than lose another person at my hands,” Peter looked away from Flash, like he was recalling some distant nightmare.

Flash understood what Peter was talking about, “… This is about Gwen, isn’t it?”

“You’ve gotta understand, Flash, being with me is _dangerous_. I made a huge mistake telling Gwen and it was stupid and irresponsible and it killed her. _I_ killed her,” Peter couldn’t say more after that, looked incapable of doing so without crying.

Flash had wanted to push this conversation to when Peter recovered, but it looked like they were doing it now. He decided to go all out with it.

“Peter, look at me,” Flash gently took Peter’s face in his hands and tried not to think about how gay his high school self would think this moment was, “ _Peter_ , you did _not_ kill Gwen. Don’t blame yourself like that. You can’t save everyone on the planet.”

Flash realized that was the wrong thing to say when the tears in Peter’s eyes finally spilled.

“How could I _do_ that? How could I fail to save her? I loved her more than anything and I couldn’t do _one thing_ for her! Don’t tell me that I can’t save everyone, because she was everything to me and I killed her. _Literally_ killed her! Flash, you don’t understand, if I’d angled my webs differently, if I jumped after her instead… It was me. _My_ webs snapped her neck. It was me.”

Flash swallowed, his hands still cradling Peter’s face. He didn’t realize all of the guilt and pain Peter carried from being Spider-Man and loving Gwen and facing her death and everything. He understood why he visited her grave so often, why he still talked about her so much, almost ten months after her death, and he understood why Peter didn’t want to tell him his secret. He even understood why he sought out the Black Cat. He couldn’t stay angry with Peter for trying not to repeat his mistake, even though Flash still thought that he didn’t have to keep anything from him. Flash was willing to bear whatever Peter, _and_ Spider-Man, had to offer, but Peter didn’t want to deal with another loss. Flash could do it though. He could do what Gwen didn’t do.

“Peter, it was Gwen’s choice to be involved with everything. Gwen saved the city. She died a hero, and she wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for all this, would she?” Flash wiped the tears off Peter’s face with his thumb.

“No, but–“

“But nothing. I know you don’t want another loss, but you can’t isolate yourself like this. I don’t care what you say, I care way too much about you to see you like this. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Flash, I already told you why I can’t—“

“I know, but I’m not Gwen. I won’t put my life on the line, I’ll never do it. I know  how much it means to you. I’ll be careful, just give us a chance. You need to move on.”

“Eugene Thompson,” Peter said, one more tear trickling down his face, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Pete,” Flash said breathlessly, and he leaned in and kissed Peter softly.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said again, his nose touching Flash’s, “about everything, about hiding Spider-Man from you, about not trusting either of us, about _everything_. Even Black Cat, who, by the way, left New York after she took revenge on Kingpin and got in my pants. Our thing was pretty much just physical. Please forgive me,” Peter said before kissing Flash again.

Flash started laughing into the kiss, and Peter gave him a _what’s so funny?_ look.

“This is so weird,” Flash said, “I mean, they say college changes you but I never thought I’d change this much. I remember when I used to say ‘I hate you’ to you on a daily basis.”

“Dude I didn’t even know I _liked_ guys before you,” Peter said, cracking _that_ smile.

“Same here. When did you realize you liked me? For me it was when you stood me up at Penn Station. It made me think… about you.”

“That early? For me, it was the first time we went to see Gwen together. You had your arm around me and you let me just _talk_ and I dunno, it was really nice. It makes me feel like Gwen would approve of you.”

Flash felt a rush when Peter said that. He felt accepted, included. For once there were no more secrets between them and they were allowed to truly be themselves without holding back.

After a few minutes, Flash noticed Peter’s eyes dropping and decided to leave him so that they both could rest. Flash realized that he hadn’t slept in over twenty four hours.

He fell asleep thinking about Peter again.

* * *

 

Peter was taking a walk in the park with Aunt May on a pleasant spring afternoon. It had been a while since they spent a whole day together like this.

“So, Peter, have you… _found_ anyone? Forgive me for asking, but you look so… happy.”

“I… um,” Peter debated whether he should tell Aunt May that he got together with his roommate who’s a _dude_ who used to bully him, “yeah. I have. We’ve been together for two months. You know him.”

Aunt May raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look as surprised as Peter thought she would, “Him?  What’s his name? I’ll have him over for dinner as soon as I can.”

Peter was relieved that Aunt May wasn’t fazed by the whole same-sex relationship thing. He took a breath and said, “It’s my roommate, Flash. He’s changed since high school… we _both_ have. I… he’s really nice. He _understands._ ”

“That’s good, sweetie. You need someone like that.”

They approached the fork in their usual walking path. There were flowers everywhere. A beautiful day. Peter began walking to the left side of the fork.

“Peter? Where are you going? We usually go right.”

“I know,” Peter said, gazing at the sun through the cherry blossoms above them, “I just thought I’d take a different path today.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope i didn't abuse italics as much as I think I did. Please criticize constructively, I really need it! And also thank you so much for reading this fic! :-)


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